


(It's Been) A Long, Long Time

by rainbow_nerds



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Big Steve, Canon Disabled Character, Childhood Friends, Comic-Con, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Reunions, SHIELDcon, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, con fic, engineer bucky, i just really love this setting, not actually comic con, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 06:09:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11075634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbow_nerds/pseuds/rainbow_nerds
Summary: Bucky bought his weekend pass to SHIELDcon expecting a weekend of fun and fandom, where he could meet friends he had spoken to online, and potentially make some new ones. He might even get a chance to speak to his favourite comic artist, for creating a character who seemed just like him. He had planned every detail, from his incredibly detailed Cosplay (Thanks, Tony!), to the panels he would attend every day. What he had not planned, was for that same comic artist to be not just incredibly attractive, but also, strikingly familiar.





	(It's Been) A Long, Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> I just really love these boys, and also conventions. This fic started as a NaNoWriMo project, but it took a bit longer than expected to finish it up. Hope it was worth it!  
> Many thanks to MajesticLolipop for the help with editing, she's a queen.

**FRIDAY**

Bucky woke the morning of the fifteenth with a sort of nervous apprehension. He was in a strange bed, in a strange town and he had no idea whether this was the best or worst idea he had ever had. He rolled over, noticing that there were two people in the other bed. They must have arrived after he had fallen asleep. He’d have to introduce himself when they woke up, but for now he was glad of the chance to freshen up before having to socialise. His costume was hung up on the strange clothes hangers they always seem to have in hotel rooms, but he barely spared a glance for the heavy black fabric and gleaming (fake) metal, before heading to the shower. 

He emerged with his own towel wrapped around his waist (He didn’t get away often, but he had struggled with those obscenely tiny hotel towels enough times to learn to pack his own), another hanging over his shoulders, catching the water which dripped from his chin length hair. He barely made it two steps out of the bathroom before realising that the two sleeping bodies were no longer sleeping, but sitting up in bed. As blond and auburn heads turned in unison to look at him, he began to think that, maybe, socialising while slightly grubby from travel and sleep may be preferable to socialising naked. 

Oh, well.

Neither of the others blinked an eye at his nakedness, however, and the woman merely gestured to the wardrobe, where the metallic costume pieces were shining. 

“Sweet costume, Buck. Looks even better in person! I wish I could have a billionaire tech guy make my costumes.”

“Nat, your costume consists of a leather suit and a weapons belt. It doesn’t exactly require much engineering.” The blond man, who Bucky assumed to be Nat’s boyfriend (Clint?) piped up, winking at her as if to say he didn’t mind the suit one bit.

“Yeah, sure. And you’re just wearing a vest and cargo pants. I’m gonna need at least five of those pockets, by the way.” She laughed, but she wasn’t kidding. “Buck, do you think you could get Stark to work his magic and find a way to put some sort of storage in this?” She pulled her suit out of her case, moving to hang it next to Bucky’s. It really was impossibly tight, but Bucky had a feeling Tony would somehow figure out how to insert hidden pockets. 

He sat on his bed as Nat went into the bathroom, and started attaching his new prosthetic. It had been designed especially for this costume – Tony wasn’t known for doing things by half – but it was essentially the same tech as his old one. The main difference was that, instead of the bare, utilitarian thing it had been before, it now gleamed with shifting, metallic looking plates, which Tony had assured him were not really metal and wouldn’t weigh him down too much. There had been more, a lot of technobabble about compounds and flexibility, only some of which Bucky actually understood, despite his degree in engineering. All he knew was that it looked awesome, and the scarlet star on the shoulder was the exact duplicate of that worn by The Winter Soldier. 

As he connected the arm to the dock in his shoulder, he became aware of the fact that he was being watched. Clint was staring at him, wide-eyed. 

“Dude. That is so fucking badass” He blurted out when Bucky looked back at him, before apparently realising that might not have been tactful, and backtracking. 

“I mean – Not badass, but just… It’s not like I, I mean…” Bucky laughed, putting him out of his misery.

“Nah, man don’t worry. It is pretty badass, I mean it literally makes me a cyborg, so…”

“Does it actually, I mean… Does it – work?” Clint hesitated, as the arm gave a faint whirr and Bucky felt the familiar yet odd sensation of it linking with his nervous system, and he replied by wiggling his fingers in Clint’s direction. The movement was slow, however. It seemed, in spite of Tony’s assurances, this new arm was heavier than what he was used to. It would be fine though, it just needed time. 

The bathroom door opened again, and Natasha emerged briefly, grabbing her suit and going back in to begin the long process of squeezing herself into it. Bucky stifled a snort when he caught Clint’s expression. 

“Dude, get a room”

“We got one, not my fault you’re in here too” Bucky just shook his head and stood up, Taking down his costume and attempting to figure out the various straps and buckles. He had just about figured out the basics, when Clint spoke up again.

“So, Winter soldier, eh? You seem very devoted to the costume. You’ve actually built it into your body! What’s the story there?” He asked as he got out of bed and started pulling on his own costume, not seeming to care about washing first. Bucky just shrugged.

“It’s not often you get a character like him, you know? An amputee, who actually gets a lot of his power  _ because  _ of that, rather than in spite of it. I don’t know, it’s just something I’ve always felt was missing, and then, suddenly there he was, almost as though it was written for me.” He huffed out a laugh before continuing, “I found the Comic at a fairly rough time, and I just… devoured it. Within a month I had read the entire series, as well as everything else by the artist. The arm - It’s not usually an exact replica – Tony was just very enthusiastic about the costume and insisted I went full out, paid for most of it too. I’ve had the prosthetic for a while, even before the comic, actually.

“Then I met Nat on one of the fan pages, heard about SHIELDcon through her, and here I am.”

Clint was fully dressed, and when Bucky asked him about his costume, he grinned and sighed happily.

“Hawkeye, man. Not the most universally recognised character, but I just really fuckin’ love birds.” They were still laughing when Natasha walked out of the bathroom, and Bucky knew he hadn’t been mistaken about the tightness of her costume. He quickly put on his own, the buckles much more difficult than they would have been if he hadn’t been slowly trying to get used to the new weight in his fingers. 

Soon enough, all three of them were ready, and made their way down into the convention hall, while munching on granola bars Bucky had brought along by way of breakfast. They got their registration badges, which took much longer than expected, though they did meet some new people in the line, and Bucky was even kind of enjoying the not-so subtle glances at his costume. It might get old the longer the con went on, but for now it was nice to see his (well, mostly Tony’s) hard work appreciated.

The morning was spent milling around the vendor room, spending way too much on merchandise they had no space to put – Bucky was definitely bringing his backpack tomorrow – and posing for pictures with fellow cosplayers, waiting for the panels they all wanted to go to. There were a few small meetups and gatherings happening, which they popped in and out of, but they were mostly waiting for 12:45, when they could start queuing for the panel with the artist who was the reason they were there. Steven Grant was notoriously hard to track down, only making one fan appearance a year, at SHIELDcon, but if the rumours were true, he packed the weekend with as many panels, signings, photo-ops and activities as he could. Bucky planned to be at every single one of them.

The panel room was crowded, but they somehow managed to get seats together three rows from the front, Bucky at the aisle because he didn’t want anyone sitting at his left, in case they were hurt by the metal arm (Tony may claim it wasn’t, but it was close enough to metal to count in Bucky’s mind). They chatted excitedly as the room filled more and more, until the doors closed and a man walked out onto the stage. A hush spread around the room, and Bucky felt his chest tighten. 

Sure, he had expected to be in awe of the guy, expected to cling to his every word and wanted more than anything to thank him for his work, but…

He had never expected him to be so damned attractive.

Bucky closed his eyes, hoping that the beautiful guy was just a sound technician, there to test the mics before the skinny, socially awkward comic artist came out from the other door. Because there was no way in hell Bucky would be able to approach  _ this _ guy, he couldn’t string two thoughts together, let alone the speech he had been planning for weeks about how much the Winter Soldier meant to him. 

He opened his eyes slowly, focusing on keeping his breathing calm, and saw Natasha and Clint looking at him conspiratorially. Clint leaned over to Nat, and, either incapable of whispering or just not bothering, said, “Looks like the Soldier just fell in love”.

Bucky blushed deeply, glad most of his face was covered by the mask of his costume. He chose not to dignify Clint’s comment with a response, instead fixing his gaze on the guy who was definitely not a sound technician, and whose name badge clearly labelled him as being Steven Grant. Bucky was just beginning to calm himself down and pay attention to the panel, when that beautiful face stretched into a grin, and Bucky got a strong feeling that he knew him from somewhere. 

Strange. 

Shrugging it off, he focused on the panel moderator, a British woman who looked like she could probably take on Natasha in a fight –which was definitely saying something, if Nat’s social media was anywhere near truthful – as she explained the structure of the panel. There was a microphone stand placed at the front of the room, just in front of Bucky, in fact, which audience members would be permitted to line up in front of and ask Grant their questions. Simple enough. Now Bucky just needed to remember what he had been planning to ask. 

The first few questions were simple – they covered things like inspirations for specific plotlines, and sillier things such as his favourite colour (Blue) and his Hogwarts house (Hufflepuff, though the British woman snorted at this, as though she disagreed. Even though he didn’t remember knowing him, Bucky had a feeling that Grant was more of a Gryffindor.) Before Bucky knew it, the panel was more than halfway through, and he was sitting, half listening to the panel, but mostly trying to remember who the guy reminded him of. 

Until he heard someone ask a question, and realised that was what he had been planning to ask. Oops.

“Hi, um, Mr Grant. I’m Sarah”

“Oh, great name! My mom was called Sarah, too!”

Bucky swore internally. Of course, he had to be one of the sweetest people alive on top of everything else. Maybe Clint was right. But that name rang a bell, too, he just wasn’t sure where, or how far back. The girl – Sarah – Can’t have been much older than fifteen, and she blushed deeply as she asked her question.

“What, uh, inspired you to start, um drawing? To become an artist?”

Grant stretched and made an odd face, as though trying to think of a suitable answer, or where to begin. Bucky wondered how he could read a total stranger’s expressions so well, when he usually struggled with that kind of thing. 

“Well, Sarah, that is an excellent question. I guess I’ve always loved drawing. It was one of the only things I could actually do, to be honest, as a kid I was always in and out of hospital with this and that, so that was part of it…” 

An image flashed in Bucky’s head, an amateur drawing of a tiny blond boy and a taller, dark haired boy sitting on the floor. The blond boy had a cannula connected to an oxygen tank, the other was missing an arm. But that was ridiculous, there was no way…

“It didn’t exactly help that my dad was in the army, so we were always moving from place to place, so I was home-schooled most of the time. A tiny sick kid, who didn’t go to school, needless to say I never really had friends, apart from… Well, art became like a kind of solace, I guess. It was how I engaged with the world. And when I got older, I started posting my art online, and gained a bit of a following, I guess. When the Winter Soldier came into my head, he was a character I had been trying to perfect since I was a kid. My best friend – my only friend, really, back then – was an amputee, but he was my hero, so I had been trying to draw him as one, god, for years! Anyway, when that happened, it was only natural that he had to be a proper, published comic. So here I am!” Steven laughed, surprised by the honestly he had shared, and completely oblivious to the man three rows from the front, with the gleaming prosthetic protruding into the aisle, who was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating. 

Attempting to breathe normally, he managed to mumble some excuse to his friends before standing as calmly as he could, and he just about made it out into the hallway before he had to sit on the floor. He didn’t see the blue eyes of Steven Grant following him out, lingering on the prosthetic arm as a question of his own flitted across those blue eyes. Memories flashed in Bucky’s mind, of the car crash, the months in hospital, then finally coming home, and meeting the boy who had moved in next door. 

They had both been outcasts, both with broken bodies, though Bucky was recovering as much as he could with one arm missing, and the blonde boy – Steve. Steven Grant Rogers. Steven Grant had been Bucky’s friend then, had been the boy he had admired so much for his strength and perseverance. How had he never made the connection? He remembered thinking that if his Stevie could keep going with broken lungs and weak bones, then he could too. They were each other’s solace for those few months, until Bucky had gone in for more check-ups and gotten home a week later to see an empty space in the Rogers’ garage, and an estate agent speaking to Steve’s dad. 

His mom had died suddenly, Bucky’s dad explained to him that night. Steve’s father was retiring, and taking him to live with his grandparents in New York. There was an address for somewhere in Brooklyn, but he’d no longer have his best friend right next door. Bucky tried to visit one last time, to say goodbye, but was told that Steve was too sick, and couldn’t see anyone, especially someone who had been in hospital so recently. Bucky took off his prosthetic as soon as he got inside his room, throwing it against the wall and collapsing on his bed. He cried for three days straight.

The image of the small plastic arm stuck in his mind, as he remembered the red star Steve had drawn on it, with the drawing markers Bucky had bought him. That was the image he focused on as he tried to pull himself back from the brink of a panic attack, knowing the panel would be letting out soon, and Natasha would have questions. Sooner than he would have liked, the doors opened and people began filing out, chattering happily about what they were planning to do next, and hoping that he could avoid the others for at least a little while. It wasn’t Natasha who tapped him gently on the shoulder barely a minute later, however, and he turned around, finally seeing the boy, the man, little Stevie Rogers – damn he’d grown, he was taller than Bucky now – Who had occupied his thoughts for so much of his formative years. He was so focused on those eyes that he almost missed what he was saying.

“Hey, I just wanted to check if you were okay? I couldn’t help but notice you leave the panel, the costume’s hard to miss, and then you looked pretty distressed so I just wanted to… Make sure I didn’t say something to hurt you or offend or anything…”

Bucky said nothing, but reached up to pull off the mask which had been close to suffocating him, wondering if Steve would even recognise him after all these years. Blue eyes looked into grey, and they were both frozen, somewhere between the past and the present, until Bucky managed to say the word which had been echoing around his head since he left the room.

“Stevie?” It came out as more of a question than he had intended, as he was still processing the situation.

“Bucky, it’s really you?” And hearing his name, the name Steve had given him all those years ago, that he had clung to ever since, coming from those lips, caused something to snap in Bucky, and he threw his arms around the other man’s neck, holding him like he would never let him go. And then Steve’s arms were around his waist and there was a wetness on his face that hadn’t been there before and he was hugging Steve –  _ Stevie _ , Steve was here and he forgot about everything else. 

He didn’t know how long they stood there, in each other’s arms, before a distinct cough was heard nearby, and they broke apart to see Natasha, Clint and the British woman who had been moderating the panel. Bucky was slightly embarrassed, but couldn’t bring himself to split entirely from Steve, keeping one hand on his shoulder, just to prove to himself that he was real.

“Oh, hey… Um, this is Natasha and Clint, my con roommates. Guys this is, well, you were just in the panel, but this is Steve.” He was still blushing as Steve introduced them to Peggy, his manager. It was only then, at Peggy’s pointed glance behind them, that they noticed they had a bit of an audience. It seemed that almost every panel attendee had paused in the hallway to see the spectacle, and Bucky noticed more than a few cameras pointed in their direction. Perfect. 

“Well, Steven, it seems we’re a tad behind schedule.”  Peggy piped up, examining her schedule, which Bucky noticed was highlighted and had various sticky notes poking out. “You have two more guest panels coming up, and then a signing. We’ll need to get moving if you don’t want to be late, but you should be finished by seven p.m. if you decide against multiple items.” This last was said with a slight grin, and a glance towards Bucky, and Steve looked sheepish. “He never limits it to one item. Even does personalised drawings, so I wouldn’t hope too much.”

Bucky tried not to look too disappointed, but then Steve spoke up. 

“Buck, you should come to my panels. It’s been twelve years, I’m not letting you go again so easily. Come to the panels, then I’ll find somewhere for you to sit during the signing. That is, if you wouldn’t be bored – I mean, it can be fairly repetitive, so I get it if-”

“I’d love to join you! That is, if Nat and Clint don’t mind.”

“Dude, go. We were planning on those panels anyway, and I’m sure we can survive a few hours without your company at the signing. We’ll pop by at some point too, of course.” Clint had a sly expression, as though he knew more than he was letting on, and Bucky was still blushing as the crowd dispersed and they made their way to the panel. 

He didn’t stop grinning the entire way through Steve’s “Artist Profile” panel. Through Steve speaking about creating dramatic tension through drawings, and collaborating with other artists in developing a story. When they got to the bit about character design, though, Bucky was shocked to hear his own name. 

“…Bucky, come up here! It’s easier to explain when I can show people.” Numbly, Bucky stood up and walked over to Steve, who gestured towards the way in which the jacket stopped at the left shoulder to reveal the arm, and how the plates of metal on his left arm lined up with the stitching in the sleeve on his right. Bucky forced himself to keep a straight face and control his breathing as Steve’s hands shifted over his body, pointing out the different parts of his costume to an admiring audience. 

“…And that’s the basic idea I had for the Soldier’s costume. Glad there was such a perfect replica nearby!” The audience laughed and applauded, while Bucky stood frozen, still feeling the ghosts of those hands and  _ God damn it, Bucky pull yourself together, just act normal. _ Steve glanced at him curiously, and Bucky grinned in what he hoped was a casual way, but then, realising the mask covered most of his face, resorted to a thumbs up. The audience gasped, realising that the metallic arm was real, not just a prop. 

Steve wrapped up the panel, and they walked towards the next. “The Importance of Representation in Comic Books and Related Media”, read the sign above the door. This was the panel which Bucky had been looking forward to, ever since he bought his ticket to the convention.

The panel was a hit, with lots of really insightful questions and discussions which Bucky found himself actually joining in on, and by the time it wrapped up, he felt better than he had in months, maybe even years.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Steve asked, as they grabbed a late lunch before the signing, Bucky’s mask discarded to the floor by his chair.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, about the Winter Soldier?” Bucky raised an eyebrow and gestured to the costume.

“Could you honestly think I have any issue with the character?” he laughed, but Steve continued

“Not just that, but the fact that he’s based on you, and he’s not exactly, well, straight” Steve looked awkward, but Bucky just laughed out loud.

“Dude. Are you kidding me? Of course that doesn’t bother me. I’m very much not straight either.” He was laughing, but something twisted in his stomach. Had Steve forgotten?

“Oh, good. Well not good, but – Well, I know we were young, so I thought, maybe you had–“

“No, it wasn’t... Whatever you were thinking of. And that day, before I went in, before it all fell apart, that day meant a lot to me.” Memories flashed in his head, of a picnic in the yard, of his hand held by Steve’s, of blushes and twelve-year-old awkwardness. Of the faintest brush of lips before they said goodbye, for what neither of them knew would be the last time for so long.

Steve’s smile was brighter than the sun, and Bucky couldn’t help but to attempt to match it, as he hesitantly moved his hand across the table to grip Steve’s. Suddenly, Peggy turned up, as if out of nowhere, and announced it was time to set up the signing. 

Steve hadn’t been kidding about the repetitiveness of the signing, and Peggy hadn’t been kidding about Steve’s generosity. Bucky couldn’t help but watch every interaction with fascination, grinning every time Steve complimented a costume, or spent a little extra time with fans who seemed to be struggling with something or other, offering words of encouragement, and seeming to genuinely care for each and every one of them.

Eventually, the final comic was signed, and, just after eight (Peggy shook her head in exasperation at the extra hour, but said nothing), they were ready to leave the convention hall for the evening. There would be late programming on, and had they not just been reunited with their childhood best friends, Bucky and Steve might have considered attending. Tonight, however, they had a lot of catching up to do. 

“I, um… I need to go get changed out of this costume, but after, do you wanna go get dinner or something?” Bucky asked, almost sheepishly.

“Yeah, sure! Are you guys staying in the hotel? I can walk you to your room, then meet you in like a half hour in the lobby?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

And so they made the disappointingly short walk up to Bucky’s room, but as he turned to open the door, it opened as if of its own accord. Natasha. The expression on her face was enough to make Bucky turn back to Steve with a sheepish grin.

“Um... Maybe make that forty five minutes?” Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Or an hour. Probably an hour.” Steve looked confused, but he nodded, understanding that Bucky had some explaining to do after essentially leaving his friends for half a day of the three they had to spend together. 

“An hour then. See you soon.”  And Bucky wasn’t really sure how they should part ways, a handshake maybe? Or a hug? It wasn’t like they’d be separated for long, although that’s what Bucky had thought the last time too and… And Natasha stopped his line of thoughts for him by grabbing his arm and, with alarming strength, pulling him into the room, shooting a barely apologetic grin at Steve, and closing the door. Bucky plopped down on the bed, still processing everything.

“Explain.” Natasha was formidable, and Clint merely nodded his approval at her demand. Bucky took a deep breath and explained the whole story, from start to finish. He still didn’t know Steve’s side of the story, why he had never been allowed to say goodbye and why Steve stopped so much as replying to his letters after a few months, but he told them all that he could.

“…He was my best friend. He was my first crush, he was everything to me, and then he was gone. I still can’t believe it’s really him, honestly.”

Natasha and Clint were silent, until Clint huffed out a breath. 

“Damn, and he wrote that comic for you? You’re the kid he was talking about? Honestly, I know we only met today, but I’m not sure what exactly is so inspiring about an asshole like you.” He laughed, clearly teasing, and Bucky simply smiled, in the way he had been smiling all day, unable to disguise the joy he felt at being reunited with Steve after all this time. 

“Well, that sounds like an acceptable excuse, I suppose. Now, you’ve still got thirty four minutes left until your date –“

“It’s not a date.” Bucky interrupted Natasha, but she just kept speaking.

“- And there’s a lot of work to do. Go get out of that costume, I’ll get an outfit ready. Please, tell me you brought something suitable?” Bucky grimaced slightly, and she rolled her eyes. “I’ll see what I can pull together. Now, go, hurry!”

As it turned out, the costume was more difficult to take off than it was to put on. It took a large portion of his time left just to figure out how to unbuckle all of the straps on the jacket, and then taking a shower which had taken longer than usual, as he tried to wash while holding his arm out of the spray as much as possible - it was mostly water safe, but he didn’t want to risk it. By the time he emerged from the bathroom, hair dripping once again, he had to rush into the clothes Natasha had laid out for him. 

He was wearing the jeans he had been planning to save for the Con ball, with a dark purple shirt which he was pretty sure belonged to Clint, but it just about fit him, so he shrugged it off. He quickly pulled his damp hair up into a messy bun, and made to run out the door. 

“Hey, Buckster!” He turned to see what Clint wanted, just in time to catch something which he had thrown. Bucky threw the condom back at him, laughing. 

“Shut up, Clint.”

He turned back to the door again, and walked out, the door not quite closing in time to miss the raucous laughter inside, accompanied by a shout of “Knock ‘em dead, kid!”

When he arrived in the lobby, he almost thought Steve was running late. All he could see were a gaggle of excited teenagers in various costumes and nerdy t-shirts, and a few very confused looking businessmen. He soon realised, however, that Steve was in the middle of the group of fans, talking to them casually, as though he knew each of them personally. They hung on his every word, and didn’t blink when Bucky joined their numbers. Steve was talking about his own favourite comics, and sharing recommendations when he spotted Bucky, and his captivating smile became impossibly brighter.

“Hey there! We were just talking about comics, I was saying how much I wanted to be Captain America” Steve laughed, and Bucky joined in.

“I think you could definitely pull it off, how about the next con? Personally, I’ve always wanted a Cap/Winter Soldier crossover to happen” He couldn’t resist shooting Steve the faintest hint of a wink.

“Oh my god, I totally ship it!” One of the group said, and they all started laughing, while Steve – Was he blushing? Bucky decided to file that one away for another time as he flicked his head towards the exit, and Steve nodded.

“Hey, guys, it’s been great talking to you all, but I gotta head out. I’ll see you all tomorrow! Have a great night!” The group all waved and said their goodbyes before eagerly beginning to discuss the prospect of that much-anticipated crossover.

It was only once they were outside of the hotel and walking along the sidewalk that Bucky realised that he had no idea where they were going.

“So, It’s quite late in the evening, and we don’t have any reservations, so I’m afraid our choices are limited” Steve said, almost sheepishly, as he gestured to the street ahead. There was nothing but fast food, dingy looking pizza restaurants, and…

“You know, I always have time for bacon and pancakes” Bucky grinned, pointing to a Denny’s which stood just ahead. Steve smiled back at him in relief, and they made their way into the diner. It seemed like they weren’t the only ones with the same idea – the tables were almost all full, and some people had even left their costumes on when going to eat, so it wasn’t uncommon to see fake metal arms resting on a table, or red ,white and blue shields resting against a chair leg. They were seated without delay, and barely needed to consult the menu before ordering – Bucky got the largest portion of pancakes available, with eggs and bacon, while Steve opted for a full plate of nachos. At Bucky’s expression, he chuckled. 

“Yes, you can try some.” Bucky felt his cheeks redden as he replied.

“You still know me too well, Stevie.” They fell into an odd silence as they waited for their drinks to arrive, both of them with so much they were bursting to say to the other, but no idea where to begin. Naturally, when they finally figured it out, they both began speaking simultaneously.

“-So, what have you been up to, Buck?”

“-What happened, Stevie?”

They paused, before Steve sighed, and began to explain.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. It just all happened so quickly, you know? One minute everything was going so well, and then suddenly Mom was gone, and I was moving halfway across the country, and I was halfway delirious because the stress made my heart and my lungs all screwy, so by the time I realised what was happening it was too late. After a while I went into an intensive series of operations and rehabs and I wasn’t able to write. When I finally recovered, I was scared to get in contact in case… Well, it had been so long since we had spoken, and I wasn’t sick anymore so… I couldn’t help but think you had only been my friend because you felt sorry for me or something.” Bucky opened his mouth to protest, but Steve shook his head. “I know now how dumb that thought was, I think I probably knew even then, but…” He shrugged. “That’s just what I thought. I started drawing more and more, and I never really forgot about the kid with the prosthetic arm and buckets of sass, who I had looked up to so much. I became a comic artist, and here we are, I guess…” 

Bucky took a deep breath before speaking. “You were my best friend, Steve. I never stopped writing. I stopped sending them, but still… I still write them, even now, when there’s something I really need to tell someone. Even after you left, after you stopped writing, when I went back to school, up until graduation there was… I made other friends, sure, but there was always part of me that still considered you to be my best friend.”

“You were mine, too.” A soft, almost sad smile played across his features, just as the waitress arrived with their drinks. Bucky took a sip, and then almost downed the rest in a single gulp, realising how dehydrated he was. It had been such a hectic day, he had almost forgotten his basic human needs. He made a mental note to put a water bottle in his backpack tomorrow as well. When he looked up, Steve was still smiling at him. “So, what did you do after graduation?”

“Well, I went to college, studied engineering. I had heard about Stark Industries attempting to develop fully functioning prosthetics, and, well -” He flexed his fingers “It appealed to me. I got a job there about a year ago, not long after graduation, and Tony decided I would be his guinea pig. It’s not usually this ostentatious of course, Tony jacked it up for the costume, but, yeah… He said he consulted with you when you were drawing the comics, right? If he had brought me along to those meetings we might’ve met sooner!”

“But we still met, so don’t worry about it. If I had seen you then, I mightn’t have even gone through with publishing, honestly… I’m just glad you read it and enjoyed it.”

“Then I’m glad it had to happen like this. Your comic means so much to me, and to so many like me. You’ve probably heard it a million times, but to have a character who is like me, in a popular series. It’s huge.”

“I have heard it before, but it’s what makes this whole thing worth it. It was all for you, and for other kids like you. I hope you know that.” Bucky had to blink back a tear, as their food arrived. He was ravenous, and it seemed like Steve was too. They both dug into their food with gusto, finishing in record time. Bucky managed to snag a few nachos from Steve, who daringly stole a piece of bacon, slathered in maple syrup from Bucky’s plate in retaliation. They laughed, and talked about everything and nothing as they sat together. Bucky couldn’t help but think about how little had changed between them, and how much.

As they walked back to the hotel, they fell into a companionable silence, enjoying the warm air and the lights of the city. Back in the hotel, they made plans to meet the following day. Steve had a few commitments as a special guest, but the rest of the time was all Bucky’s. He mentioned the prospect of a con-wide Quidditch game, and Bucky’s eyes bugged.

“Quidditch?! Is that a real thing? Like an actual game that you can play in real life? Can I play? Please, Stevie say I can play!” Steve laughed out loud, and nodded.

“Pretty sure we’re short a seeker, if you’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. Sirius Black.” Steve groaned and got in the elevator, Bucky following.

“It’s at 12, so I’ll see you there. Wear something fit for running.” Bucky nodded excitedly as the elevator neared his floor. Just as the doors began to open, and he was stepping out, Steve spoke quietly.

“You know, you weren’t just my best friend, Buck. You were my first love.” The doors dinged shut, and the elevator was on the next floor by the time Bucky processed what he had just heard. 

When he got back to the room, a spring in his step, Natasha and Clint began badgering him for information, but he simply smiled and hummed happily to himself. This was shaping up to be the best weekend of his life, he thought, as he set his alarm for the morning and changed for bed. 

 

**SATURDAY**

The following morning dawned bright and cheerful, and Bucky awoke feeling more contented than he had been in a long time, though it took him a few moments to remember why that was. Natasha and Clint were only too happy to remind him as they ate a speedy breakfast of protein bars and instant coffee, teasing him mercilessly yet fondly. 

He filled them in on the details as they made their way once again down to the convention hall, skipping over those last words with only the tiniest hint of hesitation. Natasha’s eyes narrowed, but otherwise gave no indication that she had seen through the omission. They had plans for the morning, before the quidditch game, and so they immediately joined the line for a meet and greet with the founder of SHIELD comics, Nick Fury himself. 

He had opted out of wearing his costume, in favour of dressing for the Quidditch game later, and was glad for it as he was able to sit comfortably in the line, his sweatpants much more comfortable than what he had been wearing the previous day. The vest he wore, bearing the SHIELD logo was also a practical choice. Or at least that’s what he told himself. The choice had absolutely nothing to do with the way it clung to his body, accentuating the muscles he had been beginning to work on for the last year or so. He had never exactly been interested in fitness, much preferring pizza to working out, but according to Tony, the weight of the early prototypes of his prosthetics would need a certain amount of muscle to make them bearable. He had to admit, though he hadn’t quite managed to get rid of that bit of tummy fat he had always carried, that his chest and shoulders had never looked better. Not that he cared if anyone noticed, of course. Especially Steve. 

The line was long, and they settled themselves in for a long wait, followed by a brief meeting. Some people would claim that it was ridiculous to waste time and money for something so trivial, but everyone in the line knew it was more than that. Each person was there for their own reason. They had their own relationships with the comics released by SHIELD, but they were all there together. For a few hours, a few days, they all came together, sharing a unique bond with everyone else in the room, united through something as seemingly trivial as a love of comic books. 

He made idle chatter with the people in line both in front of and behind him, noticing that their eyes all seemed to be drawn to the silver shine he hadn’t bothered to cover up. Before they could question it, he quickly rattled off the usual spiel. He was used to people looking at the arm strangely, and had the story of Stark’s trials just about memorised at this point. It was only when he finished, and saw their expressions that he realised they hadn’t been about to ask that at all.

“Oh my god, that is SO COOL!” One kid commented. He can’t have been more than sixteen. “I just thought you were in a sort of low-key cosplay. Like the soldier on his downtime or something. That’s insane, Stark is like my hero! I’m Peter, by the way. I’m applying for an internship at Stark Tech when I graduate, I’m starting college in the Fall and I’m gonna major in engineering, but I’ve done a few college level courses already. Do you know him? Could you put in a word? This is so COOL.” Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at the pure enthusiasm, combined with the exasperated looks of the kid’s – Peter’s – friends, but he nodded as well.

“I actually work there.” Peter’s eyes widened further, which hadn’t seemed possible. If he became any more amazed, they were going to pop right out of his head. “Have you got a pen or something? I’ll give you my email address, and then we can take it from there.” Peter nodded enthusiastically and rummaged in his bag, pulling out a slightly battered looking autograph book and a sharpie. He flicked to the back pages, which were full of scribbles, messages and usernames for various social media sites. 

“Front’s for autographs, back’s for contacts!” Bucky added his own information neatly, grinning as he did so. He felt lighter than he had in a long time. This weekend had definitely been a good idea.

By the time they reached the front of the line, and got to meet Nick Fury, he was honestly enjoying the company of these perfect strangers enough that he didn’t even mind the way they were rushed and barely had time to say more than “Hello” and “I love your work”. Bucky glanced at his watch and swore. He had only five minutes to get to the main hall where the Quidditch game would be happening. Shouting apologies and see-you-laters, he turned and ran as fast as he could, almost toppling several people as he went.

He arrived, panting, just in time to see Steve, dressed in a ridiculous yellow jersey and shorts, speaking to Peggy, who seemed to be one of the referees. Bucky jogged over, and Steve sighed in relief. 

“There you are! I thought we’d need to find a new seeker! Do you know the rules?”

“I know the basics. Three chasers, two beaters, a keeper and a seeker. Quaffle, bludger, snitch blah blah” Bucky had, in fact, googled the rules for muggle Quidditch that morning, watching several YouTube videos on the subject. He had never exactly been sporty, but he’d make an exception. This was Quidditch, and he had been ready for this for his entire life. 

“…Right.” Steve seemed hesitant to believe Bucky knew what he was getting into, but he shook it off, filling Bucky in on the basics of his position. “The snitch and seekers are released after ten minutes. We don’t have to stay inside the pitch, we can go anywhere as long as we don’t disturb a serious panel. You have to catch me, and grab this” – he gestured to the yellow sock containing a tennis ball which was tucked into his waistband – “before the other team’s seeker. You catch it, the game ends, and your team gets thirty points. Put this on.” Steve handed him a yellow headband, as Bucky looked over to the other seeker. 

The poor guy didn’t stand a chance. 

The game started, and Bucky immediately lost track of what was happening. He had no idea who was on his team, or even where the balls were most of the time. He was just getting into it, figuring out which side he was supposed to be shouting for, when a whistle blew and Steve darted off, pursued by the other guy in the yellow headband. 

Shit. 

Bucky darted after them, just in time to see them turn right down a corridor. He followed the shouts and laughs from the people they passed, and then – yes! There they were! He caught up with the other seeker, but Steve was so much faster than he had thought he’d be. Steve ran through the hall where people were lining up for another meet and greet, the fans in the line egging them on. Bucky was stuck on the other side. Whichever way he moved, Steve would dart the other way. There was no sign of the other seeker, he must have taken a wrong turn, but Bucky was focused on Steve.

“What’s the problem, Buck? Come at me bro!” Steve was gesticulating wildly, waving his arms and taunting Bucky with that stupid yellow sock. The little shit was showboating. Bucky gazed in amazement, before narrowing his eyes. 

“Oh it is ON!” He shouted, and made his move, Steve running the other direction just as Bucky doubled back. Steve ran back out the door, Bucky hot on his heels. He was so close, his hand reached out and brushed the sock but – no, not close enough. He pushed on, and this time he knew he had it, but-

Something was wrong. Steve had slowed down. Bucky stopped chasing him as Steve called for a time-out. His breathing was ragged, and Bucky immediately jerked into mother-hen mode.

“Shit, Steve, are you okay? Is it your lungs? You shouldn’t be running like that if your lungs aren’t up to it! Have you got your inhaler? Do you feel faint, should I get a medic, or..?”

While Bucky fussed, Steve had pulled his inhaler out of his pocket and taken a puff. Without saying a word, he darted off again, heading back towards the pitch. 

“You son of a-! “ Bucky yelled, following the sound of Steve’s laughter all the way back to the pitch, chasing him all the way to the opposite end, before tackling him. Steve turned to face him at the last moment before impact, and, eyes widening, they both went down. Bucky was lying on top of Steve, faces inches apart, and his breath hitched. 

The room was silent, or at least it was to them. Their eyes met, and Bucky noticed the miniscule flicker of Steve’s eyes moving to his lips. A plan formed. Bucky shifted slightly, struggling to remain focused on what he was about to do, as Steve pressed his lips together, and- 

“YES!” Bucky jumped up, sock in hand, and shouted triumphantly. His team surrounded him, shouting encouragement, but he turned back to look at Steve, still dazed on the floor. Bucky walked over and offered him a hand up, which he accepted. Their eyes met and Bucky winked, just the tiniest flicker, but he knew Steve had seen it because he blushed, and, hell, if that wasn’t the most stunning thing Bucky had ever seen. 

“Steve!” The moment snapped, and Steve turned to Peggy. “You have ten minutes to get cleaned up before your photo booth. Here’s your change of clothes, you better get to it.” He turned back to Bucky, smiling ruefully, before rushing to the nearest bathroom. Bucky made to follow, but was stopped by Peggy.

“He’ll be at the photo station for four hours, after that he will be free until the ball at eight. He’ll be hungry. Room 2204.” She looked him up and down, before smiling and walking away. Bucky had no idea what that smile had meant, but he hardly had time to process the exchange before Clint jumped on him from behind.

“That did not look like just hanging out with an old friend, my buddy. I’m just saying.”

“Nice to see you too. I thought you guys weren’t coming to the game?”

“Ehh, we decided to come after you guys almost ran us over in the hallway. You seemed very eager to grab his ball– OW!” He shot Bucky an expression of mock hurt at the mostly playful punch he had just received. Bucky merely raised an eyebrow, and Clint shrugged, accepting defeat. 

“Anyway, I’m gonna go back up to the room to change, text me where you guys are gonna be, alright? I’ll meet you there.”

He waved cheerfully at his friends – he couldn’t remember ever having so many friends, of so many varying ages and from so many places. It turned out Peter had known just about everyone in their part of the line, and they had all bonded over the long wait. 

It didn’t take him long to change – He had put on most of his costume, except for the jacket, taking inspiration from Peter’s earlier comment to wear a more casual version. He raced back downstairs, finding Natasha and Clint once again in the marketplace. They were browsing a selection of superhero-themed clothing. The stand seemed to have everything from sweatshirts to underwear, and Bucky raised an eyebrow at the silence which fell over the pair at his approach. 

“What are you two up to?” He questioned, and they simply shrugged, gesturing to the black widow bra Natasha had been considering. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll just have a look around.”

They browsed the stalls for a while, buying even more stuff that they had very little use for. Bucky couldn’t help but buy a pair of teddy bears dressed up as the Winter Soldier and Captain America, claiming they were for his little sister (though he knew that Natasha saw right through that, since his sister was almost eighteen). There was a panel at three for cosplayers to share their experiences, and Bucky was once again struck by the feeling he had been having all weekend, that he was finally among people who understood him, and that he actually belonged somewhere. It was so enjoyable that he almost forgot about Steve until someone mentioned they had a picture of them hugging the previous day, and offered to send it to him.

“I just think it’s so cute how much he appreciates the fans. I mean, he seemed so happy to see someone cosplaying his character, he’s just the best, don’t you think?” Bucky nodded, looking at the picture and already trying to decide what frame to put it in. He didn’t generally like pictures of himself, but this weekend may be an exception.

After the panel, a few people they had been talking to were planning on going to Steve’s photoshoot, and Bucky decided to tag along. When they got to the hall, there was a volunteer at the end of the line, telling people that she had to cut the line off in order for it to finish on time. His new friends were visibly disappointed, but before they could walk away, Steve made eye contact with Bucky and gestured for him to bring his friends to the top of the line. The volunteer shrugged and continued with her job, while the small group walked up to Steve, smiling apologetically at those still waiting. 

“Hey, Buck!” Steve called as soon as they were near enough. He looked drained, which was understandable, considering he had been on his feet all day. The next in line stepped up, and Steve’s whole demeanour changed, he hugged them energetically, making a face at the camera and then taking a moment to get their name and share a brief moment. Bucky’s heart constricted at the sight, but before he could really question why, Steve was turning and smiling at him, miming his extreme hunger. There was a giggle from the crowd, and Bucky remembered something. He dug around in his bag, before pulling out a lunch box and passing it to Steve.

“Do you actually know him?” His companions asked, and he shrugged. 

“I guess you could say that. We were friends a long while back, and we-“He was cut off by Steve’s shout of happiness.

“BUCK! Are these your mom’s granola bars? I have been dreaming about these for twelve years, honestly-“There was a pause as he shoved one in his mouth and chewed. “Still as good as ever. You are my hero, dude.” Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but found his throat constricted by the sight of such simple joy on Steve’s face. It was contagious, and soon enough Bucky was grinning along, as the next group came forward for their photo. 

The people who had come with Bucky left after a while, having gotten their picture with Steve, but Bucky stayed behind, chatting with the volunteers at the front of the queue and the people waiting, occasionally shouting ideas for poses and positions for them to try out in their pictures. By five o’clock, the line had finally run out, and Steve was looking more exhausted than ever. Bucky made to leave, but Steve called him back.

“You haven’t gotten your picture yet Buck!” his smile was tired, but fond, and how could Bucky ever say no to that. “I even have a pose picked out for us.” 

Bucky raised an eyebrow as Steve pulled out his phone and flicked through his photo app. 

“I was looking through some old pictures on my laptop last night, and I found this.” Bucky looked at the screen, and what he saw made him laugh. There they stood, Bucky at least a head taller than Steve, back to back with their arms (or arm, in Bucky’s case) raised as though they were flying. They had superhero capes on, and their faces had been captured mid laugh. 

“That’s perfect” he said. 

They recreated the picture there and then, with jackets acting as the capes, unable to hold in their giggles. The photographer told them the images would be posted online within the next month, but promised to send Steve this one personally as well.

As they walked together out of the room, Bucky realised with a soft smile that he couldn’t imagine not being in love with Steven Grant Rogers.

“Gosh, I’m so hungry. I could do with another twelve granola bars right about now.” Steve groaned, and it was all Bucky could do not to kiss him then and there.

“How about we just order some room service? I need to get this arm off, it’s been aching all evening.”

“Buck! You’re sore? You should’ve said something, you didn’t need to hang around all that time, it must have been agony, I never-“

“Stevie, calm down. I wanted to. Let’s go.” Bucky held out his hand, and immediately regretted it. Steve paused, looking at it, but then smiled and took it in his own, and the two of them walked to the elevator. Bucky wished he knew what was going on behind those blue eyes.

They went to Steve’s room, stopping on the way for Bucky to grab his clothes for the ball that evening. Natasha and Clint weren’t there yet, thank god, or Bucky would have had some explaining to do. It was nice, he thought, to spend time with Steve again. Neither of them were the children they had been the last time they had seen each other, but their connection was just as strong as it had been all those years ago. When they got up to Steve’s room – unshared, Bucky noted, and much nicer than his own – Steve flopped down on the bed and began flicking through the room service menu.

“What do you feel like, Buck? They’ve got pretty much everything here, far as I can tell.” Bucky was still standing just inside the door, holding his change of clothes and looking around the room. He blinked. “I know, I know, it’s kinda fancy. The publishers pay for it. They also pay for anything ordered from room service, so you better get your butt over here and decide what you want!”

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice. He put his clothes on the chair and made his way over to the bed, only pausing to unlace and pull off his boots before collapsing onto the pillows next to Steve and letting out a sigh of relief. 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having, I’m not fussy.” Bucky was dimly aware of Steve sitting up and phoning down their orders, but he was too busy thinking about how comfortable the pillows were to really pay attention. By the time he felt Steve’s weight once again beside him, he had relaxed sufficiently to be once again aware of the ache in his shoulders from carrying the new arm, and he reached up to rub the area where flesh met metal.

“You can take it off, if you want to. I don’t want you to be hurting out of some sense of politeness or whatever it is.” Bucky nodded and, with some difficulty, sat up again. He wasn’t facing Steve directly, but he was hyper aware of the eyes on his back as he unscrewed the arm from its joint, grateful he was wearing short sleeves so he could do it without taking off his shirt. Once it was gone, he still felt strangely naked, as though it had been some form of protection that he hadn’t even been aware of. He felt a hand brush gently against the scarred skin of his shoulder, and a voice in his ear.

“Tell me if this is okay.” And god, it was so okay. He said as much as Steve’s fingers pressed and moved across his shoulders, massaging away the tension and pressure which had been building imperceptibly over the last few days. He felt himself relax into the touch, and gradually lost sense of anything but the contact between his back and Steve’s hands. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before a knock on the door jolted him out of his trance, and Steve jumped away and rushed to open the door. He came back, carrying two large pizza boxes, which he placed on the bed between them. Bucky opened the one closest to him immediately, attempting to distract himself from the lingering feeling of Steve’s hands on his back.

“Pineapple? Stevie, you remembered!”

“I had a feeling you’d still like that monstrosity.” Steve laughed, rolling his eyes as Bucky shoved a slice into his mouth.

“You have no idea what you’re missing out on.” He replied, his mouth still full of the offending food.

“And I’d like to keep it that way, thanks.” Steve began eating his own pizza, and they fell into a friendly silence as they ate. After a few minutes, Bucky caught his eyes lingering on Steve, and as he tried to avert his attention onto something else, Steve’s eyes caught his own. Bucky felt his ears turn red, but just as he was about to look away again, Steve hiccupped audibly, and they both burst into laughter. The rest of the meal progressed amid giggles from Bucky, and hiccup interrupted grumbling from Steve. By the time they had finished eating, and Steve had stopped hiccupping, enough time had passed that they both began to feel as though they should be getting ready for the ball.

“I’ll just get changed in the bathroom, and you can change in here, yeah?” Steve suggested, crossing to the wardrobe to take out his clothes. Bucky shrugged in agreement and began to reattach his arm before he changed. 

Steve knocked on the bathroom door while Bucky was just buttoning up his shirt.

“Is it good for me to come out?” Steve’s voice was soft, and as Bucky replied that it was fine, he felt a tingle, imagining Steve’s voice in other situations. Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, he turned just in time to see Steve emerge from the bathroom. 

“Damn, Stevie. You clean up well.” Steve flushed as Bucky took in the pale blue shirt which clung to the sculpted muscles on Steve’s chest and arms, and Bucky’s mouth went dry as he noticed just how tight those pants were. He coughed and once again tried to clear his mind of Steve in a compromising position. They had just reunited, he should be focused on re-kindling a friendship, and not… whatever this was. 

“So do you, Buck.” Steve’s voice was rough, and when Bucky looked back at his face, he realised that maybe Steve’s blush hadn’t been solely due to Bucky’s comment. They stood like that for a moment, just looking at each other, neither of them exactly sure what to say, or do, until Bucky realised that he had never finished buttoning his shirt, and refocused his attention to resume the task. He fumbled with the buttons, unable to grip them with the shiny plates of his left arm in his distraction, until Steve took a few steps closer and did it for him.

“I could’ve done it myself you know?” Bucky asked, talking mainly to distract himself from how close Steve was standing to him now.

“I know you could, but I wanted to.” Replied Steve, as he fastened the final button, hands still resting on Bucky’s chest. They looked into each other’s eyes, faces only inches apart. Bucky’s eyes flickered down just in time to see Steve lick his lips. They moved closer, by a fraction of an inch. Bucky’s heart was drumming in his ears and his breathing was heavy. 

Just then, his phone buzzed loudly from the bed and they both suddenly came to their senses, pulling apart and busying themselves elsewhere. Steve went to put on his shoes as Bucky checked his phone. He had never hated Natasha as much as he did in that moment. 

“BUCKO. WHERE U AT?? BALL IS STARTING AND YOU ARE GOING TO MISS IT!!”

He was just about to start typing out a reply when another message popped up.

“SORRY IF U WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF SUCKING UR BFS DICK BUT U SHOULD COME DANCE AFTER”

Bucky laughed involuntarily and rolled his eyes. Clint must have gotten a hold of Natasha’s phone. She was usually much more… Subtle about that kind of thing.

“Be down in 10, dickhead.”

He put on his own shoes, and glanced at Steve to see that he was ready to head down too. They walked out of the room together. Just before they got in the elevator, his phone buzzed again.

“That better have been aimed at Clint or you’ll never get the chance to do what he so subtly alluded to”

This time, he didn’t even bother replying and put his phone back in his pocket. At Steve’s questioning look, he just shrugged and explained that Nat and Clint were looking for them. 

They got into the ballroom, stopping every now and again as fans asked Steve for a selfie, or just wanted to chat for a while. Bucky looked on, a soft smile playing at his lips. The music was loud, and the crowd inside was larger than any he had seen at any event over the weekend. His heart began to race as he looked around. Crowds didn’t usually bother him, but he hadn’t been expecting quite so many people. He felt Steve’s hand take his own, and he turned to smile at him, just as the music changed.

“I love this song! Come on, let’s dance!” Steve was like an excited puppy as he pulled Bucky out onto the dance floor as a song which Bucky vaguely recognised from the radio started to play. Steve seemed to know it well however, and he sang along at the top of his voice. Bucky found himself joining in, singing the lines of the chorus he managed to pick up through repetition and dancing with Steve. After a few songs like this, Natasha and Clint found them dancing in much the same manner.

“Dude, there you are!” Clint shouted, and threw his arm around Bucky’s shoulder.  “Did you know that there’s a bar? The bar is SO GOOD Bucky. You should try the bar!” Natasha’s quirked eyebrow in response told Bucky all he needed to know about exactly how much Clint was enjoying the bar, but the fact that she was still laughing told him that she had probably been making the most of it too. As the next song began to play, all four faces lit up, and Clint pushed himself away from Bucky, towards Natasha. Steve began singing as Natasha and Clint moved off further onto the dance floor, and this time, Bucky knew the words too.

“Coming out of my cage, and I’ve been doing just fine, gotta gotta be down because I want it all!” They sang, moving closer together and losing themselves in the song. By the time the first verse ended, they were standing as close together as they had been in the room before, almost shouting the lyrics at each other.

“And I just can’t look, it’s killing me, and taking control!”

It was like something out of a dream, dancing with Steve like this. Their bodies seemed to move perfectly in sync, and Bucky felt his hands make their way to Steve’s chest in time with the lyrics, while Steve’s held onto his waist. By the time they sang the final “I never!” they were breathing heavily and standing chest to chest. Bucky tipped his head forward so that it rested on Steve’s shoulder. Sweat soaked his shirt, and he wasn’t even sure whether it was his or Steve’s.

“I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” Bucky could feel Steve’s voice hum in his chest, and reluctantly pulled himself away to agree and walk towards the bar. Somehow, he managed to pluck up the courage to sling his arm around Steve’s waist as they walked, unwilling to create much distance between them. The bar was crowded, but Steve just had to flash his “Special Guest” badge to be ushered over to a relatively quiet corner, where they were served almost immediately. They sat down as they drank, and Bucky felt a thought niggling in the back of his mind.

“Steve?” the other man looked up from his drink and met Bucky’s eyes. His hair was mussed and his shirt sweaty, but god, he was so beautiful. “I just… The con ends tomorrow, and. Well, I don’t want to lose contact with you again.”

“Oh, Buck.” Steve reached across the table and rested his hand on Bucky’s arm. “Of course not. Now that I’ve found you again, I’m not letting you go. You’re my best-“

“Don’t. Don’t say best friend, please.” Steve’s hand withdrew, and an expression of hurt passed across his face. “I don’t mean it like that! You are my best friend, always have been! It’s just. What you said the other day, after dinner? About being your first love? You were mine too, and. well. I don’t think I ever stopped loving you, and now that you’re here, I just. Steve, I love you so much, and if that’s not the same for you I completely understand, but-“

“Bucky. Breathe.” He looked up at the words, but it was the expression on Steve’s face which drove him into silence. He was smiling, more in shock and amusement than anything else, but… He wasn’t upset, or hurt. Steve opened his mouth to say something else when someone called out his name. Peggy, the woman who had taken charge of Steve’s timetable all week, was emerging from the crowd, wearing a skin tight red dress, hair expertly curled. 

“You’re wanted up front, your guest DJ slot is coming up.” She said, professional as ever, even surrounded by people dancing to what sounded like Cotton-eyed Joe. “You don’t mind if I take him, do you Bucky?” She added, clearly aware that she had interrupted something. Bucky found himself nodding and agreeing, even though Steve walking away was the last thing he wanted right now. Steve stood, eyes locked on Bucky, and took a step away before turning back and crouching next to Bucky’s seat. He pressed their foreheads together and whispered a single phrase, before standing and walking away again.

“Till the end of the line, Buck”

Bucky sat there, dazed, as he finished his drink, and then another, until someone realised that he wasn’t actually a special guest and ushered him out of the area Steve had been shown to. He hardly even noticed the songs Steve had played, but from the fact that he had never mentioned DJ-ing, Bucky had a feeling it was more taking requests and hitting “go” on a playlist than anything else. Neither Nat nor Clint were answering their phones, so he wandered off in search of them. When the search proved fruitless, however, he decided to go back and see if Steve had finished DJ-ing, but there was no sign of him either. He pulled out his phone to call him, only to remember that they had never actually exchanged numbers. It was getting quite late, and he began to wonder whether Steve had left altogether, or been pulled into another commitment. He decided to go back up to his room and see if he could contact someone from there, but when he got up there, a “Do Not Disturb” sign was hanging on the door handle. That explained why Nat and Clint weren’t answering their phones, at least, but it left him with nowhere to go. 

Well, almost nowhere. He walked back to the elevator, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol he had drank combining with tiredness from the energy of the weekend. By the time he reached Steve’s door and received no answer from his knocking, he was so tired that he decided to just wait outside the door until Steve got back in, rather than trying to figure out where else he could go. After all, Steve would hardly be back too late, would he?

 

**SUNDAY**

Bucky woke with a start, confused by the fact that he seemed to be lying in a corridor with a door jammed into his back before the previous night’s events came back to him. He sat up, entire body aching from the hard surface and from sleeping with his arm attached, to see Steve standing in his doorway, looking down at him with the most adorably confused expression on his face.

“Bucky? What are you-? God, come in, sit down, what happened? Is everything okay? Have you been out there long?”

Bucky did as he was told, while quickly talking Steve through what had happened.

“God, Buck, I am so sorry!” Steve said, once he had finished, sitting next to him on the bed once more and putting one arm around him. “I couldn’t find you, but I saw Nat and Clint and told them to let you know that I had to go up to bed – The DJ set turned into a big group dance session and I was exhausted – but they said they’d tell you..?”

“They were… Otherwise occupied, I imagine” Bucky laughed and leaned into the touch. “I may not have slept particularly well, but it seems to have worked out.”

“Yeah, it has.” Steve’s voice was soft as he turned Bucky to face him. “So, we were kind of in the middle of something last night, and if you don’t mind I’d like to… well, finish it.” Bucky nodded and swallowed nervously. Steve’s parting remark had been ambiguous, to say the least. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, Buck, and I remember how I felt about you then. You’ve been on my mind so much since I started Winter Soldier, that when I saw you again… It was hard to know exactly what I felt about you, and how much of it had been imagined over the years.” Bucky’s heart sank and he tried to turn away, but Steve pulled his head back so that they maintained eye contact. “But last night. God, last night I realised something. You’re still my Bucky. And I’m still your Stevie. We might not be exactly the same people we were twelve years ago, but I can’t imagine ever loving anyone as much as I love you. And I do love you, Buck. I love you so m-“ Bucky was so happy he couldn’t even wait until Steve had finished speaking before surging forward and crashing their lips together.

Steve let out a little sound of surprise, but quickly leaned into the kiss. At first, it was clumsy, all teeth and bumping noses, but they quickly found a rhythm. Bucky felt as though he had never stopped kissing Steve Rogers, and he never wanted to. It was a sweet kiss, lingering and pure, and Bucky didn’t even care that he had just slept in a corridor, and probably tasted of sleep and stale alcohol, because he was kissing Steve again and suddenly everything in the world seemed right.

His arm began to ache from the position he held himself in, however, and in shifting to try and alleviate the pain, he broke the kiss. Steve was sitting still, a dopey smile on his face. 

“I’m taking that to mean you don’t regret what you said last night?” Bucky just nudged him playfully and stood up, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off, before going to remove his arm and place it in the corner. The entire time, he felt Steve’s eyes on him, and by the time he sat down again, a new heat had begun to form. 

“So… Where were we?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned in. This time, it was Steve who closed the gap, and Bucky had to gasp for breath as he reciprocated eagerly. His hand moved to cradle Steve’s head, and he felt Steve’s hands on his bare back. Somehow, they wound up sprawled on the bed together, Bucky half resting on top of Steve. They were kissing as though they intended to make up for those twelve years apart. Desire swept over Bucky like a storm, and he pushed himself upwards to swing his leg over to straddle Steve before resuming the kiss. Steve’s moan in response was all Bucky needed to hear before spreading his hand on his chest and moving it downwards to slide up under the now very creased shirt he had on. Bucky suddenly realised something, and broke the kiss again.

“You were going somewhere.” He said, and Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion again.

“I... what?”

“When you opened the door! You were going somewhere! And you’re dressed all nice, it was probably something important!” Steve reached up to cup Bucky’s face.

“Number one, nothing is more important than this.” He pulled Bucky down into a deep kiss as if in punctuation. “And number two, I was actually going for breakfast. With you. Part of what I said to Nat and Clint was to tell you to meet me in the café downstairs for breakfast.” Another kiss, and this time Bucky grinned into it.

“This is so much better than breakfast”, he mumbled, leaning down again to pick up where he had left off. This time, however, Steve got there first, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off, then pulling Bucky down on top of him. They stayed like that for a while, hands exploring each other’s bodies, the contact of skin on skin somehow both too much and not nearly enough for them. Bucky shifted a little under Steve and felt Steve’s hardness brush against his own through their jeans, far too many layers of fabric causing Bucky to moan loudly. He thrusted experimentally against Steve and suddenly found himself flipped onto his back, Steve’s lips moving across his face, and down his neck, nipping at his earlobe on the way. 

“God, Steve, yes fUCK Steve” he whimpered as Steve’s mouth moved further down, lapping at his nipple and sucking it between his teeth. Steve’s eyes were trained upwards at Bucky’s face as his tongue darted out to soothe the sensitive skin before kissing down his stomach, and Bucky was breathing to heavily to form words anymore. Steve’s deft fingers played at his belt and finally, oh finally, Bucky felt his fly being unzipped and Steve pulling his jeans and boxers down in one move, releasing his dick. 

“Fuck, Bucky. You are perfect.” Steve moaned, breath ghosting across Bucky’s exposed skin and causing him to arch upwards. When he felt the heat from Steve’s lips and tongue, he couldn’t hold back the string of expletives which escaped his mouth. Steve took him in his mouth and Bucky’s mind went totally blank. His breathing came heavy and he lost himself in the wet heat of Steve’s mouth. He looked down and saw Steve’s eyes trained on him. The sight of his head bobbing up and down was too much for Bucky, and he felt the heat build higher and higher until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stevie, baby, stop. I’m gonna – Fuck...” Steve pulled away, and Bucky guided him back up into a kiss, tasting himself in Steve’s mouth. He rolled so that he was on top of Steve again, and clumsily undid his belt and fly with his one hand, revealing his dick, which must have been painfully straining against his clothes, because shit, Steve was big. Bucky barely paused before moving his hand down and gripping him at the base, slicking it up with precome as he leaned in to kiss Steve again. Steve grabbed Bucky’s length and they moved together, kisses becoming more and more erratic as their orgasms built until they came together, spilling all over each other and the bed. Bucky collapsed on top of Steve, and they lay like that, sticky and naked, but happier than they could have imagined. After a few minutes, Steve reached over to grab tissues from the nightstand to wipe off with, and Bucky rolled off him to curl up on the bed.

“Fuck. Bucky, get up!”

“Mrph? Steeve I wanna sleep! Shhh” Bucky cracked his eyes open to see Steve gesturing at the time. 

“Stop being so adorable, Bucky, I have to be on stage at the closing ceremonies in thirty minutes!”

“Aww, you think I’m cute! You have a crush on me Stevie?” Steve laughed and pulled Bucky up into a seated position. 

“I’m getting in the shower, jerk. I was going to ask you to join me, but if you’d rather be annoying…”

“Fuck. No, I’m up! I’m up!” Bucky called, jumping out of bed, and tripping over the jeans that were still around his ankles. Steve burst out laughing as he helped him up. “You’re such a punk, how did I forget how much of an asshole you were?” Bucky continued to grumble even as he followed Steve into the shower, hand lingering somewhere on Steve’s body the entire time. 

They exchanged lazy kisses as they showered, and Bucky revelled in how quickly they seemed to have become so comfortable with each other. After they had cleaned up, Steve went to grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt for Bucky before getting changed himself.

“Sorry if they don’t fit, the pants were all I had packed extra, and the shirt… Well, it was a gift from a fan, so…” Bucky laughed when he pulled the shirt over his head. In large font, across the front, it read “CAPTAIN AMERICA <3 WINTER SOLDIER”.

“That’s it, Stevie. You’re definitely cosplaying Cap next year.”

They managed to make it down just in time for Steve to go on for closing ceremonies, and if his lips were a little swollen, and if a not so well hidden hickey bloomed on his neck, well could Bucky really be blamed?

(He pointedly ignored Nat and Clint as she slipped what looked like twenty dollars into his hands.)

 

_...One year later. _

 

**FRIDAY**

Steve woke up that morning to an arm snaking around his waist.

“Mmph, Bucky! It’s so early” he mumbled, still mostly asleep as he snuggled in closer to his boyfriend.

“Yeah, but it’s SHIELDCon! Time to rise and shine!” Bucky pressed a kiss to his nose and jumped out of bed, while Steve rolled over, throwing a pillow in his general direction. Bucky just hummed and stepped out of the way before making his way into the bathroom. Steve heard the hum of the shower and figured he should probably get up, since he was awake now anyway. The shower stopped, and Bucky came out, dressed in just a hotel towel. Steve had had to listen to him complain all the way from the airport to the hotel about the fact that he had forgotten to pack his own towels, but honestly, Steve couldn’t see an issue. He mentioned this thought to Bucky, who just quirked an eyebrow at him before sauntering back into the bathroom with his toothbrush. Steve followed, hugging Bucky from behind sleepily. 

“Why are you so chipper this morning? You’re usually like a zombie before ten a.m. Are you feeling alright?” Bucky just hummed and winked in the mirror at him. He spat out the toothpaste and turned around in Steve’s arms.

“It’s just such a wonderful day, and we’re back where we reunited, and I’m just happy to be here with the man I love.” Steve smiled softly and leaned in to kiss Bucky, who ducked away.

“Your breath is terrible in the mornings. Brush your teeth and then I’ll kiss you.”

“Jerk!” Steve called, grabbing his toiletry bag and turning on the shower for himself.

“Punk!” Came Bucky’s reply, without pause.

He showered quickly, and brushed his teeth, before walking back out to see Bucky half-dressed and fiddling with the settings in his new mechanical arm. This one looked almost exactly like the previous one, though it was more lightweight and hopefully wouldn’t cause as many aches and pains as it had last year. He still wore the more basic model for day-to-day, the metallic plating was definitely just there for aesthetic purposes.

“Can I kiss you know?” Steve asked, fake pouting as he walked towards Bucky, who looked up just in time to meet Steve’s lips. They stayed there, breathing the same air for a moment, before Steve decided to speak. 

“I’m happy too, you know. To be here with you. It’s just really fucking early, dude.” Bucky laughed as Steve moved away again, taking his own costume out of the case. The red, white and blue fabric was soft to touch, and as he put it on he once again marvelled at how comfortable Tony had managed to make what was essentially a glorified onesie. 

The day started much as it had the previous year for Steve after that, running panels and fulfilling his special guest duties. Peggy kept him in line, as ever, and Steve found himself wondering, as he did at least once a week, how she had managed to put up with him and his behavior all this time. All the while, though, he was receiving attention and picture requests for his costume, as well as his status as a guest. He had recently picked up drawing a crossover series titled Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and fans seemed to be loving it. Just before lunch, he and Bucky reunited again, and they were met with even more photo requests. They posed in classic hero poses, recreated favourite covers, and even, on one memorable occasion, in a piggyback pose.

They met up with Peter, Nat and Clint for lunch, and spent quite a while catching up with them. Steve had gotten to know them all quite well over the last year, and Peter had even come over for dinner a few times during his internship at Stark Tech. He was back in school now, but Steve knew that Tony had plans to offer his “mini-me” as he had dubbed the teenager a full-time position the second he graduated. The kid was brilliant, according to Bucky, and Steve had to admit he was genuinely a good kid on top of it. He just hoped Tony wouldn’t brush off on him too much. 

Steve had agreed to judge the Cosplay Masquerade this year (which Bucky had complained about, as it meant he wouldn’t be able to participate for fear of bias. Steve pointed out he wouldn’t have picked him anyway, which had earned him a bacon-less omelette for dinner that night.)

The Masquerade was due to start at 2pm, and Steve was setting up, but Bucky was nowhere to be seen. Surely he knew he didn’t have to wait in the queue outside if he didn’t want to? Though Bucky had seemed bizarrely excited for what he described as “Line con” while they were planning the trip, so Steve wouldn’t have been surprised if he had joined the queue just to pass some time.

When the masquerade started, however, and Bucky was still nowhere to be seen, Steve began to feel a little anxious. He commentated and applauded the participants as much as he could, all the while keeping one eye on the door in case he saw a flash of silver creep in. After the final contestant had performed, however, and Steve was preparing to announce a winner, music began playing. 

Steve started, and looked down at the line-up, fearing he had forgotten someone, but all the contestants had gone. He glanced at Peggy, who had a mysterious half smile on her face, as though she knew something Steve didn’t. The music sounded like a brass band, probably from the forties, and in his confusion Steve hardly noticed Natasha pulling out a camera in the front row, or the figure climbing up on stage. Bucky stood on the stage in front of Steve, and their eyes met. Steve’s confusion must have been visible, because Bucky gave him a small, reassuring smile just as a voice began singing, and he dropped down on one knee. It was then that Steve noticed the little black box in his hand. His eyes filled with tears almost immediately, as the voice crooned;

_ “Never thought that you would be, Standing there so close to me...” _

“Stevie. Almost fourteen years ago, something happened to me that turned my life upside down, and I don’t mean losing my arm. When I got home from hospital, you were waiting for me, and you understood how it felt to be set apart from the other kids. I think I knew even then, somehow, that you would be important to me, but I could never have guessed that I would fall head over heels for you. A year ago, in this very room, I saw you again for the first time in twelve years, and I fell in love all over again. I don’t want to ever have to live without you again, Stevie. Will you marry me?” 

Tears poured down Steve’s face, and he didn’t even bother to hide them as he nodded and rushed into Bucky’s arms, who held him tightly. Remembering the ring, they separated again, and Bucky slid it onto his finger. Their lips met as the song continued playing.

_ “So kiss me once, and kiss me twice, and kiss me once again. It’s been a long, long time…” _

 

**Author's Note:**

> So the structure for the convention is based on my own experience with smaller cons (Specifically Leaky/Geekycon - feel free to cry with me about the tragic loss of Geeky btw, can you tell which passages were written around the time it was cancelled?) so I hope it makes sense!  
> Also, The song playing during the proposal is "It's Been a Long, Long Time" by Harry James & His Orchestra, and you may recognise it as the song playing in Steve's apartment during THAT SCENE in Winter Soldier, right before Nick Fury is shot, and I'm emotional. ANYWAY.  
> Thanks for reading, and follow me on tumblr at theyseemefangirlintheyhatin for more feeeeelings


End file.
